Our regiment was finally placed in camp on top of some high hills in the
western part of the city, behind fortifications of cotton bales. It
brought to our mind what we had read about Jackson at New Orleans. On
the top of these hills, commanding an extensive view of the surrounding
country, we pitched our tents. We had issued to us the style of tent
called the "Sibley;" patterned after the wigwams of the Indians, conical
shape, with a large hole in the top to permit the escape of smoke. The
tent pole consisted of a wooden staff four or five feet long, which
rested, at its base, on an iron tripod of about three feet in height.
Between the legs of this tripod we made our fires, fuel being provided
by the quartermaster's department. At night when we had spread down our
blankets inside of the tents, which were intended to accommodate
twenty-five men each, we lay with our heads to the outside of the
circle, and our feet pointing to the fire. It was pretty close packing,
but we were good natured for the most part, and so we got along very
well, although, occasionally, some fellow would make a fuss, but it was
soon stopped by everybody else yelling at him to keep still, and
yielding to public opinion so emphatically expressed, the disturber of
the peace would smother his injuries, fancied or real, in his own
breast, and sleep would soon settle down upon our household.
While in camp on these hills, some of the friends of boys of our
company, came to visit them. Solomon Starr, John Huffman, uncle Archie
Gryder and several others. We were all glad to see them, and in fact it
made no particular difference who they had come to visit, we were all
glad to see them, for we were nearly all acquainted with them; at any
rate they had come from what we called "God's country," and they were
heartily welcomed. They said they wanted to see how "soldiering went,"
so we fed them well on what we had, not forgetting to supply them
liberally with that delicious dish which some one had named "s— of a
b—;" where in the world he ever got the name from we never could find
out, or why it should have been thus named, for it certainly bore not
the slightest resemblance to any member of the canine race. This
beautiful dish, in order that all may know how it was prepared, was made
as follows: hardtack broken up into small pieces, and then fried or
boiled in grease and water until it has swelled, and become as tough
almost as india-rubber. This is what we regaled our guests with, and
they accepted it with credulity. At night we would scatter them around
in the different tents, as it was impossible to keep them all in one
without putting us to great inconvenience. So one night there came up a
heavy storm of wind and rain, and the water flowed through the tents,
soaking our blankets and everything else. Our guests left us in the
morning, expressing themselves as being fully satisfied with their
experience. "Soldiering was not so very hard," they said, "but then, at
times, was inconvenient, and indeed they _must_ hurry home, they had not
intended to have staid nearly so long as they had, etc., etc." At this
late day, whenever you meet one of them, and ask him if he remembers the
night he passed in camp with us at Nashville, he will tell you with a
groan that, "yes he believes he does remember something about it," and
will always add: "you have reference to the night it rained so."
It was not long before Nashville seemed to rouse itself, and assume
something like its former appearance, and to look as it had before war
breathed its desolating breath upon the city. The stores were opened,
the hotels commenced filling up, and as far as war was concerned,
nothing was observable in the city to denote a state of war, or that the
city was under martial law, except the passing of army wagons, or the
tread of the provost guard. Order reigned, and protection from crime was
given to all. The theatres were opened and played to full houses
nightly; mostly officers and soldiers filled them, although generally
there was a fair sprinkling of citizens in the audience. Pieces bearing
directly upon the war, with strong union sentiments, were placed upon
the boards, and the performance would be interspersed with songs of the
most loyal character. One day there came an order for us to "strike
tents." We had no idea of where we were going, but our march was not a
long one, merely across the Cumberland to Edgefield, where we went into
the old camp just vacated by the 16th Illinois. A more beautiful camp we
had never seen. The quarters of the men were made of cane, which the
16th had procured some where in the neighborhood, and out of which they
had contrived to make a camp, at once beautiful and artistic. All of the
old boys will well remember it.